they were really into sax back then –
     big mouthfuls of it –

no strings –
     the dream was to coast about, recklessly

finding favour in back alleyways
               fingers up and down

as loose coins in the pocket – jingle rhythmic
                                            pitched high to the sway –

but notes fall like people do
   and music gets in deep as a low C – sustained

all practiced hands are quick to find
    that frantic riffs give out to calm –

all alleys lead to open doors
and love – like death – moves in